Processing My Birth Experience and The Business of Being Born

Edit: Read my review of the movie here.

My church showed the new film The Business of Being Born this past Saturday as a fundraiser for the West Virginia Chapter of the American College of Nurse Midwives. I feel blessed and hip and excited that I was able to see this new documentary, and have a big warm fuzzy that my congregation that is so supportive of midwifery and natural birth. (We also had a great discussion afterward- although I had to duck out early- that I'll talk about below.)

I was braced for an emotional trip going into the movie, because my birthing experience was disappointing. My plans for a water birth at a birth center were smashed to itty bits by complications- genuine ones, I feel pressed to qualify: Molly passed meconium in utero, and my birth defects created problems- I have a tough, scarred cervix and scarred uterine walls from surgery to remove a wall that divided my vagina and uterus into two compartments each. My cervix would not open until I was swimming in Pitocin, and then my placenta wouldn't budge and the doctor on call had to come in and just yank it out of me. (This was Hell, evil pain. No epidural, and the dose of Nubain I'd taken during the rending of my cervix was long gone then. So that part taints the whole memory for me along with the shock of my bright, sterile environment and the tangle of IV tubing and monitoring wires.)

So I’d known watching it would make me re-examine my birthing experience, but it felt different than I’d expected. One of my midwives was there- the one who took my “water broke and it has green poo” phone call and checked me into the hospital. She switched shifts before my active labor and my favorite midwife D took over. That’s one of my regrets- choosing the practice that rotates prenatal care and, apparently, labor attendance between several women. I missed that, the experience of the women on screen who bonded with their caregivers through the pregnancy and then had a deeper connection with her during labor.

But L was great. The film and seeing her there made me want to communicate with her about my experience. I wanted to thank her for being so gentle and so supportive the way she guided me through all the scary changes to my birth plan. She was amazing at respecting my dream of birth even as she helped me understand that it couldn’t happen the way I’d wanted. She worked hard to try to get me to the birth center, checking me in the hospital hoping the meconium was thin enough to not be a worry, then explaining very sweetly the steps that followed. It’s hard to describe but she and D both validated my wishes by emphasizing that my birth was not really “normal,” that my conviction that I could deliver without medication was correct in a typical situation but there was going to be intervention that was beyond normal birth pain.

So I wanted to thank her for all of that, and articulate it, but I left before the rest of the group. (Amusingly, I had to excuse myself to get home to pump- the grandies had Molly.) Leaving in the middle, I felt such a lack of closure. I should have hugged L, at least, on the way out, or been warmer when I recognized her- new pretty hair do, street clothes instead of scrubs. I alluded to her being my midwife during the discussion and then worried all night that my saying that she missed the actual delivery came across as a slight.
I left feeling such a weird mix of stuff, anyway, that I wanted Molly’s presence to help ground me in my motherhood, in my present. I’ve folded the birthing into myself, and my motherness and the beautiful connection I feel with Molly. I wasn’t upset per se, just off balance. I decided I’d call to see if she was awake still and fetch her back if she was up. She was awake, so I picked her up and bundled her into a snuggly cocoon of bedtime with Bu and me, and nursed her and felt myself calm.

Now, I feel like I’ve processed the memories better maybe. I may send L a postcard and articulate some of the things I need to tell her. Just thank yous… For doing the best anyone could to acknowledge the loss I felt delivering in the hospital, and the way she was very apologetic about having to order all the interventions. And for rubbing my crazy balloon feet with scented lotion.

Movie Review: The Business of Being Born

My church screened the new documentary The Business of Being Born Saturday. From an art/critical/analytical stance, the movie is not wonderful; it’s firmly in the realm of Pretty OK. The animated sequence near the beginning didn’t fit for me and bothered the continuity a little. The content is great, though, and it’s empowering to see this information in a film that’s getting some attention, but I doubt that the AMA is going to watch it and think, “Oh, wow. Our whole profession has fucked up royally. Let’s start telling women to give birth at home.” And, incedentally, that's pretty much what would happen if the birth industry actually prioritized women's and children's health.

It’s infuriating to see some of the doctors’ arrogant contentment with being completely ignorant of the natural process of birth. Many had never witnessed a non-medicated birth. I really think, based on my acquaintances’ birth stories, that most doctors haven’t. There is a lot of talk about the “cascade of interventions” and a little bit of exposition explaining exactly how interfering in labor creates distress for mom and babies. I would have liked to see more explanation of how a natural birth progresses and why it works juxtaposed with exactly how the interventions create problems that require furthur interventions. (See Henci Goer's book The Thinking Woman's Guide to Better Birth, for great detail about each common intervention and why it can help and hurt specific processes in labor.)

There are several interviews with doctors who advocate for natural and home birth. I’m skipping the rant about our tendency to deify doctors here, but they do lend credibility to the filmmakers’ assertions. The statistics and historical information presented also provide good back up. There’s less spiritual flavor than I’d expected, and what is included is mostly from the mothers whose births are shown- and I'm comfortable with that. I half-expected more new age vibes that would turn off some mainstream viewers. "Being Born" actually shows pretty well that the need for more natural births isn't because women are missing a primal initiation experience that will enrich them spiritually and psychologically- which is a deep truth. The crisis isn't about that, though. American birth is in a state of emergency because we have an absurdly high infant mortality rate in comparison with other industrialized nations, and our C-section rate is as high as one in three in some regions. The ramifications of medicine and law appropriating the whole of our pregnancies are creating serious health problems and deaths. The technologies used aren't always well-researched or tested, and are used by default when they aren't needed. This isn't a matter of just being ridiculously over-cautious; these disruptions to labor and delivery cause actual, measurable harm.

For the crunchy contingent, I thought we'd hear a passing mention of unassisted birth. There were at least two scenes video of women catching their own babies (the image that brings me to tears immediately, along with the first breastfeeding:) I didn't see any mention of women who don't have birth attendants, but the midwives do mention that their role is guide and witness. My own discomfort with UC comes from a feeling that I do lack something in my role as a mother- the midwives help fill in gaps in experiential knowledge for women who have never attended a natural birth and seen first hand what our bodies can do.

I’m really moved that Ricki Lake (who is the executive producer) let director Abby Epstein include footage of Ricki’s homebirth. It's incredibly beautiful. Her being a public figure and knowing that people gawk and gossip and judge, but being vulnerable and showing her body in its most intimate, intense moment is a kind of a little gift to women as a whole. An offering to try to help bring back our ownership of our bodies. And with adorable serendipity, Abby gets pregnant during filming and we get to see her exploring the process from a perspective that's probably closer to most American women. (She actually does end up in the hospital with a baby in distress- who is just fine, other anxious moms.)


The Business of Being Born is powerful in reframing medicalized births as unneccesarily dangerous. The statistics and history speak for themselves, but the footage of midwive's visits and the births help create the stories of authentic births that are the real focus. Several women I watched with are planning to get the DVD as gifts for mamas-to-be. I expect many birth classes will include it, too. Sadly, a nurse from a hospital here in WV told us that her department would never allow her to show it.

The frustrating thing at the core of the whole issue is that the information readily accessible to women- what their caregiver and peers relate to them from their experience- does not include normal birth. To find out what our bodies do when left to perform without anything to impede or dull the intricacies involved in labor, we have to dig a little bit. It's easy to find, but you have to know to look. I hope this documentary will earn some attention-it looks like Ricki's promoting it well.

LINKS:

For the film geeks:
http://imdb.com/title/tt0995061/
http://thebusinessofbeingborn.com/

Interviews with Ricki:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ricki-lake/ricki-lake-on-the-bus_b_46002.html
http://babble.com/content/articles/features/interviews/rickilake/
More reviews:
http://www.mothering.com/sections/news_bulletins/business-of-being-born.html
http://www.divinecaroline.com/article/30378/30385

Lexie

I can't really remember when I first heard the term Wabi Sabi. Probably, it was during my college years, but it may have been later. It was definitely not as an art term that I learnt it (although, I did learn at the time that it was an art term!) but as a philosophical way of being. A Buddhist weltgeist , if you will.

Immediately, I took it as my own. Perfectly imperfect? Hell Yeah! I think it was around that time that Lexus was running their "Pursuit of Perfection" ads, which I also always identified with.

Anyhow. Many years later, on May 14th, 2006, my son Remy was born. At home. In a very Wabi Sabi turn of events, the birth -- while beautiful and empowering beyond words -- was a great deal more difficult (and painful) than I was expecting, and I was caught off guard by how my unconscious fears (of back labor, and pain) caused that difficulty.

And thus begins my journey into motherhood... a delightfully imperfect pursuit of perfection, wabi sabi style.